But not so much when I left my house.
“Are your children adopted?” says the woman in the check out line in front of me at Target.
It’s hard to articulate just how much that sentence feels like fire on my face. My face which immediately snaps around to have a look at my children – and wonder why this person thinks they couldn’t be of my womb.
“What’s adopted mean, Mommy?” says my son, furthering my internal hysteria.
“Adoption is when you bring a person or an animal into your home and make them part of your family. It’s a wonderful thing. But who here lived in Mommy’s belly before moving into our house?”
Meeee! Scream all three of mine…more at me and less at the boundary-free woman next to us where I would like some screaming to be directed.
“Oh. It’s just that they are a different race than us, aren’t they?” qualifies Miss Alabama 1950-something.
Us. As if queries about my kids’ racial makeup wasn’t already feeling too personal – at the finish line of a 10,000 square foot human paddock of discounted goods – but now we’re going to pretend they are justified because this fair-skinned woman and I are both “White”?
For the record, White is not something I ever call myself. My husband’s parents, who are immigrants from Korea, refer to me as White all the time but what they mean is Caucasian. White, to me, is this pearl-toting lady of my mother’s generation standing beside me. Who probably has a big hat in her closet to wear to a derby and who is wearing a very dainty one-inch heeled shoe while shopping at Target today.
My family of origin is Italian and Irish and lives in New York. We wear flat shoes or very high-heels – in case you have to run after someone who has just mugged you or you are attempting to be the tallest broad at a party. Either attempt is looked at with admiration in my culture – I’m guessing not so much in the White woman’s world.
The checkout woman alongside Blondie and me, is very aware that my voice (or my hand) may just rise up now, and she jumps in to help.
“What your children are is beautiful!” says she, with a bright smile.
This woman ringing up our treasured finds is Mexican American. And she, too, may have checked “White” on her census form, like me and Ms. Inquisitive, since Hispanic and/or Latino is considered a culture and not given as a choice of race on the form. Yet, she is even less white then me. My skin color is olive and hers is brown.
Genetically speaking, I understand there are only three races: Asian, Caucasian, and an antiquated word that feels frighteningly close to the N word, referring to black people. But could this be why the mixed race population in America jumped nearly 50% in ten years? Because there is no category for every person of color between white and black – be that Middle Eastern or Indian or perhaps even southern European – and maybe some of us checked both black and white to represent our skin color? Because although I did check Asian and White for my family, the concept of having children with someone outside of my race still seems to be a mystery to this woman at the checkout conveyer belt beside me.
“My kids are ‘Euro-Asian’”, I say, thinking this idiom might be something my race-mate can visualize.
“Oh, are they Philippino then?” she asks.
In the subsequent stunned silence between all three of us “white” women, I decide to close the conversation with my own question.
“Do you even know where the Philippines is? My kids are American. Just like you. So let’s both take our 17 bags of goods and get on with our very varied and abundant American lives, shall we?”
Do you also not fit exactly into today’s US CENSUS FORM? Or has someone asked you a question about your race or heritage that caused you to want to hurt them? Check out these awesome families in the video…
I read this last week. People can be ignorant at times when asked what race they are?!
I will say it again! Your kids are really adorable.
I am a mixed race person and i remember someone asking my mother a lot of questions at an airport once when I was younger. My mother got so mad that I wonder now if they were questioning if she was my mother. It was the maddest I’ve ever seen her. you are a good person for writing this for al the moms who married outside their race.
This is hilarious. I love the way you write your inner thoughts
it’s a fine line isn’t it? you want to be able to talk to people, ask questions and share information but if you can easily cross the line and insult someone. I think most people are stupid and even if well intentioned, should keep their mouth shut.
I think this is particularly hard – when people say something inflammatory (meaning to or not) to a parent. Because as the parent, it’s not only your well being or your perception that you are worried about. You feel responsible to defend or explain your child’s whole being. we should probably all be a little more careful with our words of moms and dads when they are with their little ones.
thank you Gatsby, i wish i didn’t have so many inner thoughts
well, CJ, (is this my friend cj???) i don’t think we should be afraid to talk to each other. we are all just looking for a connection in this life. and more information, and an understanding of experiences. perhaps we just need to put on our kindness hat before we engage on a hot topic with a stranger…
I am Filipino and my husband is Caucasian who grew up in North Ogden, UT. We’ve been married for almost 6 years and ever since we started to consider starting having kids, I’ve been preparing myself to react as civil as possible of the day when someone mistakes me for my children’s nanny instead of their mother (because they’re more “White” than “Brown”). I hope I won’t have to experience this, but there are so many people out there who are, surprisingly at this day and age, ignorant and close-minded.
Thanks for your blog. I’m buying your book soon.
I also have three mixed (white-Asian) kids, Nobody’s ever asked me something like that (maybe because we’ve always lived in areas with large Asian populations where mixed couples are thicker on the ground than in most areas) but after trying to handle a situation like that with restraint and politeness, I probably would have given up and fallen back on biting sarcasm
Johnnyanne, have your children, and know they will be pretty and interesting and a product of America and all this generation and our country affords them – and that as a mother to multi-ethnic and mixed-race children another’s ignorance will have so little to do with your daily life. it really wont. however, on the day it intrudes right into your life, you will survive this conversation and eventually laugh about it with your friends like I did
df
I think I fell right back on biting sarcasm also JB. it’s better than saying what I wanted to say…
I am married to a man from India and we have three young adults who have followed the Indian customs. They have learned the language and culture and so have I. They will marry Indian people because they feel comfortable in the culture. They are Americans with mixed blood and culture. I have been accepted by my husband’s family and Indian society. It is a rich mix and more acceptable today with CA being such a melting pot.
I am the proud mother of a beautiful bi-racial (white/african) daughter. I have been divorced from her father for many years and my current partner of 8 years is Asian. When she was small and we three would walk together, her holding each of our hands, you could see the puzzled look on people’s faces. “How did that happen?” It is hysterical. Being polite Canadians, people do not usually comment or ask aloud their questions. But you see it in their faces.
My daughter and I have very similar faciall features but our skin and hair are very different. When people say, “Oh she must look like her Dad”, then I know that they are not looking beyond skin colour. Sad for them.
I’m reading your book right now and I gotta say as a single black man reading this from your perspective has is both refreshing and frightening at the same time. I have not many lasting relationships with girl of another race in my youth. I’m afraid to enter into a relationship after a disastrous attempt that left my confidence a bit crippled. I know I seem to over sharing and I apologize but reading has shown me something that I have seen in my before. I have never really truly “fallen in love”, well I have but that is a tragic story for another time; your devotion to your now husband and his toward you is something that I would to have and after reading this may give me the courage to pursue again.
Thank you for writing and don’t give up on love. I think its worth the fight. DF
I hate being called “mixed race” My dad is English, mum is Jamaican, but there is one race, the human race.
By calling someone mixed race, you are suggesting they are of two races. Mixed race was added to census as another divide and rule tactic, to split up potential votors for people like Barack Obama when he wants to be elected.
Obviously as it says mixed race, those inventing the term will be clear on which is the “correct” race. To them its white, and calling the person mixed, involves them being of non human species.
I do not know why more people who have black and white parents dont work this out!